


Taping Up Broken Glass

by pandacheeze



Category: One Piece
Genre: Desperation, Heartbreak, M/M, Porn with Feelings, Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-30
Updated: 2016-03-30
Packaged: 2018-05-30 03:22:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 849
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6406630
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pandacheeze/pseuds/pandacheeze
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rosinante cheated on Law. Try as he may to mend their shattered relationship, he only ends up cutting himself on the spider web cracks in Law's trust.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Taping Up Broken Glass

_This is our break up song_  
_But can't we just get along_  
_For the night_  
_In spite_  
_Of the hurt we hide?_  
_For old time's sake_  
_Won't you just take_  
_Me by the waist_  
_Hold me underneath the sheets_  
_Make love like our first week_

\- Break Up Song by Pixie Lott

* * *

 

Rosinante doesn't let himself indulge in his orgasm for long.

 

As soon as the intense wave in his loins starts to wane, he opens his eyes so he can watch Law go through his own climax. It's the moment when the lithe male can't hold back, body uncontrollably rising off the bed to meet Rosinante's, moving on its own accord in response to the burst of ecstasy. The one moment when Law's expression is unmasked and he looks like he's actually enjoying himself for once tonight.

The blond makes it his mission to prolong Law's peak, give him a mind-blowing orgasm so maybe Law'll forgive and forget his evil deed. He subtly undulates his hips to continue stimulating the other's prostate, not forgetting to quickly thank god he's the type that stays hard for a while after ejaculation. He makes sure that Law's penis gets some good grinding between their navels as well in the process.

The combined efforts elicit a string of keening cries from Law's throat. His eyes crack open a bit, enough for Rosinante to catch a glimpse of the whites of rolled-back eyes before the lids flutter shut in bliss, but the inked fingers twist the sheets and scrunch the pillow instead of their usual target - Rosinante's skin.

So it seems like he isn't worthy of the red crescent marks from Law's nails anymore.

Tightening his arms around Law, the taller male keeps rolling his pelvis gently, insistently, as if trying to meld their lower bodies, keep them together forever somehow.

The blond drags out the sensation for another minute or two until Law's melodious moans morph into soft whines and he pokes his heels into Rosinante's sides, signaling him to stop.

Rosinante cherishes the feeling their torsos heaving against each other and Law's walls pulsating around his dick, just in case this does turn out to be their last coupling.

The raven-haired male swallows the spit that's gathered at his throat, takes a deep breath, and exhales.

When those golden orbs finally open again, Rosinante knows that whatever they've built between them is officially over because the look that Law gives him is distant and stony. How foolish of him to have thought that sex would be enough of an atonement for his affair. Law's always been a clever guy. Physical pleasure could never cloud his major life decisions.

Rosinante bends down to capture Law's lips, but the other turns away and keeps Rosinante's face at bay with both hands. The taller male persists for a while, but it's obvious that Law doesn't want to kiss, so Rosinante settles his mouth on Law's shoulder instead.

He sighs.

Shunned.

Rejected.

Not allowed even a parting kiss.

He had fucked up big time. Big. Time.

Rosinante sadly realizes that if he weren't such a good lay, Law might not even talk to him after he had discovered Rosinante's little secret. The only reason why Law's not up and out of here yet is because Rosinante's still on top and inside of him.

 

"I love you," murmurs Rosinante in a forlorn attempt, voice muffled against caramel skin. Their height difference makes the angle uncomfortable for his neck because he has to hunch his shoulders.

 

"...Liar," he hears Law whisper, and all the hurt and accusation balled into that single raspy word is so painfully _palpable_ that hot tears of guilt rapidly form in the corner of Rosinante's eyes.

 

"I'm sorry," he says in a shaky tone, smoothing one large hand over the black heart tattoo yearningly because the real heart has already slipped through his fingers.

"So sorry. I won't do it again. I promi-"

"I let you fuck me one last time _,_ now get off me."

"Please, at least stay the night?"

"You ask for too much," Law says and forcibly pushes at the older male with hands and feet. They untangle from each other and Rosinante tries to latch onto Law's limb but Law leaps out of bed and starts putting on his clothes.

Rosinante doesn't trust the strength of his own legs at the moment, fearing that he might collapse in a heap on the floor like a clumsy newborn giraffe before he gets to Law, so there he sits on the bed as Law throws on his hoodie and faded jeans.

Salty drops leave wet tracks along each pale cheek and his nose flares with each sharp breath, but he doesn't sob or wail. No, he doesn't deserve the privilege of expressing his discontent so explicitly. Not when he brought this upon himself. There's no-one else to blame.

 

"Don't leave..." he begs in defeat when tattooed fingers reach for the doorknob.

 

Through a blurry kaleidoscope of tears, Rosinante watches half of his heart walk out the door and out of his life.

 


End file.
